Dark Hollow Road (Taryn's Camera Book 3) by Rebecca Patrick-Howard Page A

trying to choose the right words. “My parents and I had a difficult relationship when I was growing up. I actually ended up going to live with my grandmother when I was still young, and it was an arrangement that suited everyone well. But, like Cheyenne, I wouldn’t have put my parents through this kind of grief. Not for this long anyway.”
    “Exactly,” Thelma quavered, sounding relieved Taryn understood her. “I know the police still consider this a possible runaway but I know she’s not. Jeff, that’s her stepfather, he still holds out the belief she’ll turn up one day with her tail between her legs, seeking forgiveness. I give that sliver of hope to him. He holds so much guilt otherwise.”
    “Why?” Taryn asked, unable to stop herself.
    Thelma sighed and seemed to age ten years in a matter of seconds, her face darkening and the lines drawing deeper on her forehead. “Jeff and I married when Cheyenne’s father died. She was twelve when he officially adopted her. He did his best by her, Jeff’s a good man you see, but he’s not always an easy man. Sometimes he may have expected too much out of such a young girl. Jeff’s former Navy, retired now, and likes everything in order. Cheyenne was just the opposite. She didn’t understand his rules, his rigidity, was to keep us safe and his way of showing love. They butted heads a lot. But he would’ve walked through hell and high water for her.” She snapped this last part with vehemence.
    “It’s not his fault what happened,” Taryn tried to soothe her. “He couldn’t have known.”
    “Well, in a way he could have. You see, Cheyenne called him earlier that evening to come and get her. I guess her and her friends got in a tiff. That’s what one said. That’s why she was leaving with somebody else. She sent us that text, the one saying she was coming home early. But we didn’t get it. We were asleep at the time. If we’d gotten it, we’d have been expecting her. We would’ve known when she was meant to be here. We would’ve asked who was driving her. We both feel guilty about that.” Thelma set her Coke down on the end table next to her, a coaster under it, and shook her head with sadness.
    “I understand about the guilt. I lost my husband years ago and am only just now getting around to letting go of some of the blame I put on myself,” Taryn admitted, feeling helpless. She wished she could offer this woman more comfort, but felt helpless.
    “I am glad you’re here, no matter what anyone says,” Thelma asserted suddenly, her eyes blazing.
    “What do you mean?” Taryn asked, taken aback. Hadn’t they wanted her to come and teach at the college?
    “I know it was wrong of me to bring you in on false pretenses, but the students really are enjoying you and–”
    “Thelma, what are you saying?”
    “Oh, honey,” Thelma exhaled loudly. “Can’t you see? You’re not seeing and hearing my daughter on accident. I brought you here because I know who you are. I put you in our cabin to be close to where Cheyenne was. You’re here to find my daughter.”

Chapter 10
     

     
    A lthough her stomach grumbled and she was dying for something carbonated and caffeinated (everything was a “Coke” to her unless it was clear) she drove straight to the cabin without stopping. For the first time since Andrew died Taryn found herself wanting, needing really, to be engulfed by the presence of a man. Or, more concretely, a man who loved her. And despite the fact she couldn’t really explain her current situation with Matt, one thing she felt for certain–he was the only person left in the world who truly did love her.
    When she walked through the door she found him sitting cross-legged on the couch, his skinny pale legs poking out from his pajama bottoms. She still liked that he always wore matching pajamas. A bathrobe was tied loosely around his waist, and papers were scattered on the floor and around him.
    “Hey,” he smiled as she began the process